Adeline, on hearing this terrible information, fell insensible on the ground. When she recovered she saw Mrs Mowbray anxiously watching by her, but not with that look of alarm and tenderness with which she had attended her during her long illness; that look which was always present to her graceful and affectionate remembrance. No; Mrs Mowbray's eye was cast down with a half-mournful, half-reproachful, and half-fearful expression, when it met that of Adeline. The emotion of anguish which her fainting had evinced was a reproach to the proud heart of Mrs Mowbray, and Adeline felt that it was so; but when she recollected that her mother was going to marry a man who had so lately declared a criminal passion for herself, she was very near relapsing into insensibility. She however struggled with her feelings, in order to gain resolution to disclose to Mrs Mowbray all that had passed between her and Sir Patrick. But as soon as she offered to renew the conversation, Mrs Mowbray sternly commanded her to be silent; and insisting on her going to bed, she left her to her own reflections, till wearied and exhausted she fell into a sound sleep: nor, as it was late in the evening when she awoke, did she rise again till the next morning. Mrs Mowbray entered her room as she was dressing and inquired how she did, with some kindness. 'I shall be better, dear mother, if you will but hear what I have to say concerning Sir Patrick,' replied Adeline, bursting into tears. 'You can say nothing that will shake my opinion of him, Miss Mowbray,' replied her mother coldly: 'so I advise you to reconcile yourself to a circumstance which it is not in your power to prevent.' So saying, she left the room: and Adeline, convinced that all she could say would be vain, endeavoured to console herself, by thinking that, as soon as Sir Patrick became the husband of her mother, his wicked designs on her would undoubtedly cease; and that, therefore, in one respect, that ill-assorted union would be beneficial to her.